Snatcher's Library - Halloween Edition
by Dragon MoonX
Summary: A collection of fifty short stories, drabbles and oneshots written about our favorite Snatcher Scabior. Written for the Holiday Spirit Halloween Boot Camp challenge.
1. Afraid

**Snatcher's Library - Halloween Edition**

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling and I don't own her characters. However the OCs are mine.

* * *

 **Prompt 1 - afraid**

Was there anything Scabior was afraid of? Some people might say no, not a tough, rugged Snatcher like him. But there was a secret he'd been keeping for the past few months, a secret that revealed itself one day when the elevator broke down at the Ministry of Magic.

Scabior hated the golden elevator that was used to get around inside the Ministry. He hesitated before getting on, watching the people as they passed him by. He didn't know how they could do it, how they could so easily walk into a cage of golden bars, letting themselves get locked away with no guarantee of getting out. Of course they hadn't been to Azkaban like he had. They didn't know what it was like to lose yourself in a darkened world of torment and misery with no hope of ever escaping alive.

Greyback tapped him on the shoulder, causing the head Snatcher to start as he spun around, his kohl lined eyes wide as he looked at the werewolf behind him.

"C'mon, Scabior," said Greyback, jerking his thumb towards the elevator. "Umbridge wants to see us in fifteen minutes. Let's go."

"Right," said Scabior, tugging on his plaid scarf as he eyed the elevator doors nervously. His throat and chest felt tight, constricting with fear just from looking at those golden doors. It was like he was suffocating, a feeling of entrapment surrounding him as he thought about how those doors would close, locking him inside.

He gathered his courage and stepped onto the elevator. They were halfway through their descent when suddenly the elevator jammed, the floor beneath their feet creaking and shuddering before coming to a complete stop.

His heart stilled within his chest, skipping a beat as he felt the walls and floor vibrate, his eyes growing wider as he glanced down at the floor. Scabior felt the elevator grind to a hault, and suddenly he froze, unable to move or breathe, hoping and praying that they weren't trapped inside this golden prison.

He'd been like this ever since the two months he'd spent in Azkaban. Being confined to a cell in prison had caused Scabior to develop a horrible fear of small, enclosed spaces. They reminded him of his time in prison, and he swore to Merlin that if he ever got out he was never going back to that accursed hell hole of misery and despair.

"No," Scabior murmured, his eyes darting from one side of the elevator to the other. "No, this isn't 'appening." He practically fell against the closed doors, his palms flat against the door infront of him.

Greyback took a step back, not knowing what to make of the situation as Scabior began to panic. He'd never seen him like this before, the head Snatcher screaming as he beat on the door with his fist.

"We're never going to get out of 'ere," said Scabior, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. He'd begun to hyperventilate, and any minute now Greyback feared he was going to pass out.

"We're never getting out!" Scabior screamed, frantically pounding on the door. "We're trapped. We're never getting out an we're going to die in 'ere!"

"Scabior..." Greyback began, but was cut short by Scabior's panicked screaming.

"I don't want to die in 'ere! Let me out! Let me out! I can't go back to Azkaban. I can't, I won't! I won't!" He was almost on the verge of tears as he leaned his weight against the door, throwing his head back and screaming.

Suddenly the floor jerked, and the elevator started moving again.

It took Scabior a minute to realize that they were moving. His back against the door, Scabior collapsed as he slid down the door into a sitting position on the floor. His eyes wide, he gazed around the room like a frightened animal huddled in the corner. It took a moment for him to compose himself, and when he realized what had happened - what he'd done and what Greyback had seen - he felt horribly embarrassed, and mentally kicked himself for allowing himself to have a breakdown in front of Greyback.

Fortunately, the two of them were alone in the elevator. And Scabior would make sure that before they left Greyback would have no memory of what had happened here.

The elevator doors opened, and a very dazed and confused werewolf stumbled out into the hall. Scabior followed behind, twirling his wand in his fingers before tucking the length of ivy in his pocket. He wouldn't let anyone find out about his panic attack in the elevator.


	2. Autumn

**Prompt 2 - autumn**

Autumn was Scabior's favorite season. He wasn't fond of summer, with its scorching heat and mosquito infested nights. Whenever he tried leaving the flap open on his tent to let in the cool evening breeze, he'd wake up the next morning covered in itchy bug bites. He tried casting an anti-mosquito net charm, a thin glowing, green net forming over the entrance of his tent like a spider web. But the charm didn't do much good, and only succeeded in deterring a few of the pesky insects for an hour or two before he fell asleep.

When the sun rose the next morning, a very itchy and grumpy Snatcher took his seat next to his fellow Snatchers around the campfire, his skin covered in red bite marks. Greyback took one look at him laughed, telling Scabior to join the crowd and get used to it.

"I sleep outside every night, Scabior," said Greyback. "I don't like being confined in tents like some kind of cage or dog kennel. The mosquitoes don't bother me much. I'm used to it by now. This trick is to not scratch the bites. That'll just make them itch worse."

"Of course you're used to it," Scabior grumbled, scratching the itchy bites on his arms. "You 'ave fleas. So there's always something crawling up your trousers an chewing on your arse."

"Yeah, that's something else you might want to consider is actually sleeping in clothes. Unless you fancy the thought of mosquitoes eating your bits off while you sleep."

Winter wasn't any better, because winter often meant tracking muggleborns through three feet of snow. It was during this time of year that Scabior could often be heard swearing and ranting about freezing his bits off in the snow.

"I should be getting 'azard pay for this," said Scabior. "It isn't safe for a man to be outside while 'e's up to 'is crotch in snow."

Spring was even worse, for it brought with it an overabundance of pollen which did nothing but aggravate his allergies, causing his hay fever to act up and making Scabior miserable. It was difficult to track muggleborns when his explosive sneezing fits often gave away their position to their targets before he could snatch them.

It didn't help that spring was when Greyback was feeling energetic and frisky, running about the camp on all fours and casting glances at the men in his group that were far too affectionate in Scabior's opinion. He knew that Greyback wasn't above raping, killing and eating women. However he wasn't sure if the lustful werewolf would resort to doing the same to his men if Greyback's desire to mate became too strong.

"Just go wank off in the forest like a normal person, Greyback," said Scabior. He was rather disturbed by the werewolf's behavior, and was eager to send him off on his own so his men wouldn't be at risk of falling victim to the randy wolf.

Greyback decided to take Scabior's advice. And the next morning when Scabior awoke, he found the werewolf sleeping nude in the dirt next to a mutilated deer carcass that he was using as a pillow while he slept.

Scabior didn't have to put up with any of that in autumn. There wasn't a layer of snow covering everything in sight, there were no biting mosquitoes or frisky werewolves, just peace and quiet as the earth cooled, the days grew shorter, and the leaves started to change color. The atmosphere felt calm as the energies of nature began to retreat back into the earth, the plants preparing for their long winter rest.

It was during this time that Scabior enjoyed going for long walks in the woods, taking in the beauty of the seasons as leaves in shades of crimson, gold and yellow lined the treetops. The air was cool, there was a pleasant breeze drifting through the trees, and everyone in camp was calm and relaxed.

After his walk, Scabior returned to camp and settled himself under a tree, closing his eyes and relaxing in the shade. The most he had to content with was Greyback rolling in piles of leaves, or chasing squirrels up trees as the woodland creatures worked to gather acorns for the winter. But after a while he learned to tune that out, and just enjoy the pleasant weather and relax.


	3. Bat

**Prompt 3 - bat**

Bats were a common sight in the forest. As soon as the sun began to set on the distant hills, they could be seen flying through the darkened skies overhead. Most of the time there were only a few of them, and Scabior would often sit outside in the evening, watching them as they dipped below the branches, flying low to catch moths and other insects that were drawn towards the light of the campfire.

One time Scabior made the mistake of setting up camp close to a bat infested cave on the middle of a hill. There were so many bats passing by that evening that Scabior and his men were able to stand outside for several minutes, watching as the bats continued to fly over the trees and across the heavily wooded valley below.

They didn't think much of it at first, until they found themselves being stalked by bats almost every evening once the sun went down. And as if that weren't enough, the bats seemed to favor Scabior as their prime target.

Greyback said that it was because of Scabior's long hair, and that bats were known for going after people and tangling themselves in their hair. And although Scabior didn't really believe that, he found it rather strange that they seemed to favor him the most. The other men in his group had short hair, and they weren't getting attacked half as much as he was.

Eventually it reached a point where Scabior couldn't walk outside his tent without being divebombed by a bat. This one bat kept coming back night after night until Scabior was tempted to hex it into oblivion.

"You know, that old wives tale isn't true, sir," said Ranca. "Bats don't really go for people's hair. What they're doing is attacking the moths and insects that get stirred up around you when you walk outside in the grass."

"Tha's a lovely theory," Scabior grumbled. "The only problem is tha we're camped out on a bare patch of dirt. There isn't a single blade of grass in the clearing. An yet every time I walk outside tha bloody bat keeps chasing after me."

Scabior looked up as he saw a dark shape swooping down from a nearby tree. "Bloody 'ell, 'ere it comes again!"

He ducked as the bat flew towards him, covering his head with his hands as the bat repeatedly bumped and rammed into him. Scabior was fed up with dealing with this annoying bat night after night. So he picked up a branch that had fallen from a nearby tree, and swung the heavy piece of wood as hard as he could at the bat the next time it flew at him.

The Snatchers watched as their leader swung the piece of wood and knocked the bat right out of the clearing. There was a dull crack as the wood made contact with the unfortunate bat, and when it didn't resurface after several minutes had passed, Ranca and the rest of the Snatchers felt certain that Scabior had killed it.

Scabior tossed the branch onto the campfire and sat down. "Did I ever tell any of you lot about the time I played as beater for the Slytherin 'Ouse Quidditch team?" he said with a smirk. "Looks like I still got it."


	4. Black Cat

**Prompt 4 - black cat**

 _A/N: this was based on the true story of when me and my mother got my cat Saros._

It wasn't unusual for witches to own black cats. Cats were popular pets, but black cats were the favorite. And so it came as no surprise to Scabior when Draconius decided that she wanted a black cat for a pet.

"I don't know, sweet'eart," said Scabior as he and his wife looked over the selection of animals at the pet store. "A cat seems rather ordinary, don't you think? Why not get something different like this talking parrot with two 'eads?"

"I don't want a bird, Scabior," Draconius replied. "I don't even like them. All they do is make noise. I want something soft and cute that I can cuddle and play with."

She moved along the selection of pets until she came to a cage with three kittens in it. One of them was grey while the other was black and white. But the one she wanted was the little black kitten that was cleaning himself in the corner.

"Excuse me," said Draconius, waving to the man behind the counter. "I'd like to purchase this black kitten, please."

The man behind the counter went to the back of the store to get a box to put the kitten in. As he walked past Scabior and Draconius, Scabior wrinkled his nose in disgust as a horrible stench reached his nostrils.

"Bloody 'ell," he whispered to Draconius. "Wha's that smell? Did you fart?"

Draconius smelled it too, but she was certain it wasn't her. In fact she looked rather offended that Scabior thought the smell was coming from her.

"No, I did not," she replied. "I thought that was you."

"Even I 'ave enough sense not to do tha in public, pet."

They both turned and looked at the man who was picking out a box to put their new kitten in.

"Do you think it was 'im?" Scabior asked.

"I don't know. Maybe. I mean it did happen just as he walked past us."

.oOo.

When they brought the kitten home, Draconius took it out of the box and set it down on the floor of the living room. It took a while for the kitten to get used to his new surroundings, but after a couple minutes he started exploring his new home and playing with his owners.

"'E likes me," said Scabior, a wide grin on his face as the kitten climbed into his lap and playfully swatted at his scarf. He watched as the kitten stood up them tumbled over into his lap, his wife laughing as the kitten wriggled and squirmed until it managed to stand up again.

All was well until they noticed the same foul odor that they'd smelled in the pet store. The kitten was running around near the couch when the smell came back, and suddenly it dawned on them what the smell was.

"It's the kitten!" said Draconius, holding her nose while Scabior fanned the air in front of his face. "I don't know what kind of food they've been feeding him, but its given him horrible gas."

"Maybe 'is stomach is upset," Scabior suggested.

"I don't know. But leave it to us to get the one kitten in the whole store that has gas."

Hearing that made Scabior laugh. He knew his manners weren't the best in the world, and that he sometimes got a bit gassy himself when he ate too much. It made him think this kitten would fit right in and be the perfect addition to their family.


	5. Bloodcurdling

**Prompt 5 - bloodcurdling**

 _A/N: special thanks to the brilliant mind of my friend Anna Fay for giving me the ideas I needed to write this._

It was an unseasonably warm autumn night. The Snatchers were sitting around the campfire, enjoying the mild weather and drinking themselves silly, when one of them began a discussion about the worst curses they've ever used on someone. And before long the conversation dissolved into a bragging contest as they attempted to top each other's stories.

Ranca told about the time he conjured a miniature tornado made of scorching hot flames, and used it to trap one of his victims and burn them alive.

"I remember that," said Greyback. "Best barbecue I ever had."

"Wha about you, Jeremy?" Scabior asked, knowing full well that the inexperienced Snatcher had never cast anything more complex than a disarming spell. He was curious to see what the boy would say. Would Jeremy tell the truth? Or would he try to fit in with the rest of them even if he had to make something up?

Jeremy hesitated somewhat before speaking. "Well, there was the time I stole an old lady's purse," he said, glancing nervously around at the others.

"That doesn't count!" said Silis, picking up an empty bottle of booze and throwing it in Jeremy's direction.

Jeremy ducked as the bottle went soaring over his head, missing him by a good two feet.

Greyback looked at the others, watching and waiting for the laughter at Jeremy's purse snatching story to die down before speaking. "You want to know what I did?" he asked, taking a sip from his drink as he waited for a response.

There were murmurs and nods from the other men, as well as a few curious glances as they wondered what sort of tale the werewolf had to tell.

"I invented a curse that can curdle someone's blood," said Greyback, a cruel grin on his face as he spoke. "It's a bloodcurdling spell. Literally."

The men around him looked horrified and disgusted. Jeremy's mouth dropped open in shock, and Silis looked like he was on the verge of being sick.

"You can curdle someone's blood?" asked Scabior. "Why would you even want to do tha?"

"Because sometimes I get tired of lapping blood up off the ground," Greyback replied. "I like it when its the consistency of cottage cheese. Then all you have to do is mix in some chunks of raw flesh, top it off with some ranch dressing, and you've got yourself a tasty midnight snack."


	6. Bogeyman

**Prompt 6 - bogeyman**

 _A/N: thanks again to Anna Fay for helping me with this. I was really stuck on this one, and I couldn't have written this without her help._

Sometimes the things we experience as children stay with us when we're adults. Certain things make a lasting impression on us, or they frighten us in a way that makes it difficult to forget, or they're joyous occasions that we want to remember for the rest of our lives.

For Scabior, one of the things he remembered from his childhood was hearing about a person known as the bogeyman. It was a term he'd heard when he was young, and it conjured images of a man with ghastly green skin, his flesh covered in a layer of oozing slime with long, trailing vines and water plants for hair.

It wasn't surprising that he would think such a person exists. In his world there were creatures such as kelpies and dugbogs. So a green skinned man that lived in a bog wasn't that out of the ordinary.

Scabior believed that the bogeyman was the only person who could tame and ride a wild kelpie. And who better to tame a ferocious, shapeshifting water demon than a man who lived in the bog? This man was probably just as bad as the kelpie itself. And it was for that reason that Scabior preferred to avoid camping out near any kind of lake or bog.

"Who's to say this bogeyman of the bog really exists?" Greyback asked. "According to what I heard, the term 'bogeyman' is what muggle children call boggarts."

"You mean boggarts sometimes turn up in the muggle world?" Silis queried.

"Of course they do. The Ministry hauls in nearly half a dozen of them a year from children's closets and out from under their beds. Most of them are too lazy to bother erasing the children's memories. They figure that, since they're so young, no one is going to believe them anyway."

"Well, I say it's true," said Scabior. "There are stories of people being able to tame kelpies an render them 'armless by using a Placement charm to put a bridle on them. But who do you know tha's ever managed such a thing without getting torn to shreds an eaten by one of those beasts? No ordinary witch or wizard could pull tha off. So it must be the bog men tha do it."

Greyback rolled his eyes. He'd never heard of such nonsense before.

.oOo.

A few days later, Scabior received a letter from the Ministry stating that he was to pack up and move to a remote area in southern England near New Forest. There were reports of a group of people hiding in the area, and there was a strong possibility that they were members of the Order who had escaped and gone into hiding, meaning that they were quite valuable and were worth a lot of gold. The only problem was that they were hiding in an area known as Matley bog.

Scabior couldn't refuse the job because of the amount of gold that was on the line. This was the first big mission they'd had in a while. Plus there was always the risk of getting fired if he turned down the opportunity to work. This was what he got paid to do, and he couldn't refuse to work simply because he didn't like the location.

"Matley bog, eh?" said Greyback, clapping a hand on Scabior's shoulder. "Be grateful we aren't going to Yanal. Boy, I bet that place stinks!" He then looked back at Ranca and said, "Did you know there's a bog in the states known as Spruce Hole?"

For once in his life Scabior was quiet. He didn't make any crude comments or jokes about what Greyback said. He just stared down at the sheet of parchment in his hands that told him they were moving to Matley bog.

The bog itself was a wet, dense, ancient woodland, filled with moss covered trees and in the brighter, wetter areas there were cllusters of rare bog orchids. Small pools and streams flowed through trees, while in other places the paths led out to wide open fields of wet earth, ponds and thick vegetation. It was the perfect place for a bogeyman to call home, in Scabior's opinion. And he was going to prove to them that the man of the bogs existed.

Scabior stayed up late that night, keeping watch beside his tent as the evening passed slowly beneath the starry skies above. There were patches of clouds drifting through the cold night air, and every now and then the skies would darken as the clouds covered the moon.

Scabior shivered as a cold, damp wind blew through the trees. The campfire had been reduced to a few dying embers hours ago, and the rest of his men had already gone to bed. He looked around, peering through the shadows for any sign of movement. He'd been sitting there for several hours, and hadn't seen a single trace of the bog man.

After a while he stood up and made his way over to some bushes to relieve himself. He unbuttoned the fly on his plaid pants, sighing with relief as he felt his bladder begin to empty. All was quiet for several seconds until the bushes began to tremble and shake.

Scabior froze, staring at the quivering mass of dark green foliage, when suddenly a snarling creature with slimy vines cascading down its back and shoulders sprang from the bushes, its claws swiping and slashing at him as the head Snatcher screamed and fell backwards with a splash into a pool of cold bog water.

"Greyback!" Scabior shouted once he recognized the person that had leapt from the bushes. The werewolf thought it would be funny to play a joke on their leader, and had used glamor charms and water plants to turn his skin green and disguise himself as the bogeyman.

A few of the Snatchers that were hiding in the nearby bushes started to laugh. They knew they'd pay for this later, but seeing the look on their leader's face was totally worth it. One of them was even heard saying that it's a good thing Scabior had already gone to the bathroom, otherwise he might have wet himself from fright.


	7. Bones

**Prompt 7 - bones**

If there was one thing Scabior couldn't stand it was Greyback's habit of digging up the campsite to bury bones in the dirt. Sometimes Scabior would wake up in the morning and find the entire campsite looking like a family of moles had taken up residence beneath his feet.

The werewolf had many peculiar hobbies, such as collecting bones and making necklaces from fangs, bones and claws. The fangs and claws came from his fallen werewolves that he'd slaughtered in battle. The battles were usually fought over territory, with rival werewolf clans killing each other in an attempt to increase the range of their territory. Greyback was known as one of the most savage and fierce beasts of his age, and it wasn't unusual to see him wearing the remains of those he killed.

The dirt around Greyback's tent was scored with claw marks, and shards of broken bones and chipped teeth could be seen mixed in with the soil surrounding his living space. Dark patches of dried blood covered the walls and ceiling of the tent, and a foul odor could be smelled coming from inside. The smell was particularly strong in summer, when the animal carcasses and dead bodies Greyback hauled into camp rotted faster in the heat, forcing some of the Snatchers to move their tents so they weren't downwind of him.

One night Ranca was sitting outside when he smelled something rotten coming Greyback's tent. He fanned the air in front of his face and said, "Blimey! What is that horrible stench?"

"Probably the rancid deer 'e drug 'ome yesterday," said Scabior. "With all this 'eat tha shit is probably starting to sizzle over there."

The two Snatchers looked up when they heard a low growl coming from nearby. There was Greyback, his dark eyes glinting in the moonlight as he glared at them.

"Don't piss me off," the werewolf snarled. "I'm running out of places to hide the bodies."

"I've noticed," said Scabior, glancing back at the skull that had been partially covered in dirt outside of Greyback's tent.

Sometimes Scabior wondered why the Ministry had forced him to let Greyback join his band of Snatchers. The werewolf had excellent tracking skills due to his heightened sense of smell, eyesight and hearing, but he was often more trouble than he was worth, and Scabior had gone without getting paid on more than one occasion when their target had been ripped to shreds by the vicious werewolf.

"I know what your thinking, Scabior," said Greyback. "But you're wrong. The Ministry assigned me a position in your group for a reason, and it wasn't just to make mincemeat out of every mudblood that walks past." He shifted slightly in his seat, making himself more comfortable on the smooth boulder he was sitting on. "Give me the wanted poster of our latest target."

Scabior hesitated, giving Ranca a confused look as the two Snatchers glanced at each other before Scabior reached into his pocket and took out Marissa's wanted poster.

The werewolf snatched the sheet of parchment from Scabior's hand, and began folding it until it was nothing but a small square of parchment no more than an inch or two across. He got down on his knees in the dirt in front of the campfire, and removed the necklace of bones and fangs he was wearing. He snapped the string in two, pulled the bones off the string and arranged them on the ground around the campfire.

As Scabior and Ranca watched, Greyback removed a small vial of a clear liquid from his back pocket and sprinkled it over the bones. The liquid shimmered faintly in the moonlight, with minute specks of what looked like silver glitter in it. He then closed his eyes, concentrating on the image of their target in his mind and he chanted an incantation in Latin under his breath.

Greyback opened his eyes and tossed the wanted poster in the fire. The flames rose high into the air, changing color from rich violet to shades of blue and silver. The image of Marissa appeared in the fire. She was crouched beneath a fallen tree, taking shelter under its low hanging branches in an area covered by reedy plants, thick brambles and dense woodland.

Greyback turned his head, gazing off in the distance towards an area in the south. "You'll find the mudblood hiding near the river nine miles from here," he said. "If you leave now, you can catch her before she moves on near sunrise."

Scabior's mouth opened in disbelief as he stared at the werewolf. "'Ow did you do tha?"

"Ancient werewolf magic," said Greyback. "I'm not like you. I don't need a wand to use magic. I have my ways, and some of the spells I cast are more powerful and effective than yours. But your kind wouldn't know that, now would you? You're so quick to kill us, to eradicate us from the face of the earth that you don't know what we're capable of. We could help you if we wanted to. But after being persecuted for centuries most of us have given up, and we just don't care any more."


	8. Candy

**Prompt 8 - candy**

Scabior tried to be a good father. But every now and then his Slytherin side got the better of him. He would do anything to make sure his little girl was happy, even if it meant cheating so his daughter could have it all while others did without.

It was the day of the annual harvest festival, and Scabior had brought Melody to the festival to play some games and win prizes. They had all kinds of games for children and adults, including a pile of hay with candy hidden inside for the little kids to dig through in hopes of finding some sweet treats in the hay.

Scabior stood next to the pile of hay, watching as his four year old daughter got on her hands and knees and rooted around in the hay. He noticed that she wasn't having much luck finding any candy, and yet all the other children were finding two and three pieces at a time.

He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then drew his wand and aimed it at the pile of hay. He muttered a brief incantation under his breath, and a faint rustling noise could be heard as the hay shook slightly.

He smirked and slipped his wand back into his pocket. Moments later his daughter happened upon a large pile of candy in the hay. There were packs of chocolate frogs, fizzing whizzbees, and dozens of mice pops in every color of the rainbow.

When she saw the pile of candy Melody quickly began stuffing the treats in her bag. The other children saw what she was doing and started digging through the hay close to where she was sitting. But the rest of the kids walked away empty handed because Scabior had summoned all the candy to the spot where his daughter sat in the center of the hay.


	9. Carve

**Prompt 9 - carve**

He still remembered the sound of her voice, the way she whimpered, cried and begged for mercy, the way she screamed when Bellatrix held her down and used her knife to carve the word "mudblood" in her flesh.

It wasn't the first time Scabior had seen Bellatrix use her knife to make her mark on her victims. She delighted in all forms of torture, anything that would leave lasting mental and physical scars. There was a time when one of her victims was found bound and gagged in Diagon Alley, naked as the day he was born, with Bellatrix's name carved into his chest. He'd been lying there in the dumpster for several hours before anyone found him.

Scabior looked down at the faded scars on the back of his left hand, the steam from the hot shower helping to blur the letters on his hand. One by one the drops of water trickled over his nude form. He was just as bare, just as vulnerable as he'd been then. And even though the water was warm, he couldn't help but shiver, a chill running down the length of his spine as he remembered what she'd done.

The water soothed his tired, aching muscles after a long day's work, but it couldn't ease his mind the way it eased his body. It couldn't wash away the memories, couldn't drown the pain he'd felt then. He still remembered it as though it were yesterday.

She'd held him prisoner, beating him, torturing him, treating him like he was just another plaything, another one of her toys whose life had no value whatsoever. She kept him chained up in the cellar, lying there naked alone, until one day blended into the next and he lost track of time. Some nights he awoke screaming, other nights he couldn't sleep at all. And he was always cold, always in pain, lying there on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

No one escaped Bellatrix's wrath when she decided she wanted a new plaything. And as he lay on the cold, damp, musty floor, Scabior could feel the warm blood slowly oozing down his wrist and across his fingers, the wound still fresh and stinging with intense, burning pain.

His body was her canvas, with bruises blossoming across his chest like blackened flowers upon a bed of broken earth. He was sure his ribs were broken, for he could hardly breathe without feeling a sharp, piercing pain stab him in the chest. His breathing was shallow and labored, and he feared that if he breathed too deeply he would puncture one of his lungs with the shards of his shattered ribs.

Deep gashes ran in snaking trails along his legs, back and thighs, but worst of all were the bloody letters carved into the back of hand where she had spelled out the word "mine."


	10. Costume

**Prompt 10 - costume**

"You look stunning, pet. Tha costume really suits you."

"You think so?"

Draconius turned around. The dragon tail that peeked out from below the hem of her dress was dragging on the floor. She wasn't used to having a tail, and wondered why she had let her husband transfigure parts of her body instead of just dressing up in a regular costume.

The three of them were going to a Halloween party. And although Scabior didn't want to dress up as anything, he delighted in helping his wife with her costume. However, when Draconius said she wanted a realistic dragon costume, this wasn't exactly what she had in mind.

"My back itches," Draconius complained, reaching around and trying to scratch the space below her wings. "Are you sure this was a good idea?"

"Of course it's a good idea," said Scabior, smiling as he scratched his wife's back for her. "We'll win the costume contest for sure, love. Now, where's my little girl?"

"Right here, daddy!"

Melody came down the stairs, dressed in the costume her mother made for her.

Scabior's mouth opened in shock when he saw what she was going as. "A pink unicorn? You dressed 'er as a pink unicorn?"

"She likes it," said Draconius. "And she looks adorable in her cute little outfit."

Melody was wearing a pink dress, with a tail made of yarn that had been attached to the back of her dress with a sticking charm. Her mother had also used a sticking charm to attach a small paper cone to the center of her forehead, and had used a spell that temporarily changed her daughter's hair color, turning her unruly mass of thick brown hair into a flowing mane of pink waves.

"I thought both of you were going as dragons," said Scabior, sounding a little disappointed. "I would 'ave liked to 'ave seen you dress up as mummy an baby dragons."

Draconius picked up her daughter and said, "Are you mummy's little dragon?"

"I'm a baby unicorn," said Melody. "Baaaa!"

Draconius burst out laughing. "No, sweetie. Sheep go baa . Horses nay."

"What sound do unicorns make, mummy?"

"I don't know. But I know how to find out." And with that Draconius started tickling Melody's tummy.

Scabior couldn't help but smile as he watched them. He loved his wife, and his daughter was adorable no matter what she was dressed as.


	11. Cemetery

**Prompt 11 - cemetery**

The Snatchers did more than kidnap people in exchange for money. They were also thieves. They picked pockets, mugged people, and broke into houses to rob people. Some of them even went so far as to rob graves, stealing whatever jewelry and valuables they could find on the bodies they dug up.

Scabior wouldn't lower himself to robbing graves, but Morvin and Greyback had no problem sneaking into cemeteries at night and digging up bodies. The two of them had known each other for a long time, and Morvin was probably the closest thing Greyback had to a friend. Morvin wasn't a werewolf, but he was just as filthy, just as low down and cruel as his partner in crime.

The head Snatcher leaned his back against one of the cemetery trees, its barren branches rattling ominously in the cold autumn wind, clicking and clacking against the side of an ancient mausoleum. He wasn't comfortable here, and he wouldn't set foot inside the building behind him.

"Morv! Greyback!" he called out into the rising wind. "Are you about done yet?"

Wicked laughter rose up out of the ground several yards away, and the werewolf poked his head out of a hole in the earth. There were mounds of loose soil scattered around him, and in his mouth hung a long silver chain, the pendant on the necklace made from a large piece of star sapphire.

He looked like an excited puppy with a shoe in his mouth, but the image of him holding a dead person's necklace in his mouth was far from being cute, and Scabior had to look away as Greyback hauled himself out of the grave.

"Tha's disgusting," said Scabior.

"What's the problem?" asked Greyback. "You have a problem with dead bodies or something? Because to me a corpse is nothing but an inert object. I'm no more affected by a corpse than a commode. Both can smell bad, too, if left unattended."

They both looked towards the mausoleum as they heard a series of loud noises from inside, followed by a slew of curses as Morvin swore and backed out the entrance. He had accidentally knocked over an urn on his way out, and was covered in a layer of fine grey powder.

Scabior paled when he saw the Snatcher brush the ash off his clothes. Greyback walked up to him and plucked something out of Morvin's hair.

"Is that a tooth?" the werewolf asked, examining the splintered bone fragment he'd removed from Morvin's shaggy mess of black hair.

"I think it is," said Morvin, ruffling his hair. "Damn thing fell on me from one of the top shelves in there."

"Nice."

"Not as nice as this." Morvin held up a sack he'd filled with loot from the mausoleum. "You need to go in there, Fenrir. That's where all the rich bastards keep the good stuff. You won't find much if you keep digging in the dirt."

Greyback laughed. "I like digging in the dirt. I'm a dirt diggin' muggle fucker. And that's just how I like it."

"You would, you mutt."

They laughed, the two of them thoroughly enjoying themselves, while Scabior frowned and shook his head. These two were out of their minds. And Scabior decided that he'd had enough of their little grave robbing adventures. This was the last time he was coming with them to the cemetery. From now on Morvin would have to find some way to break into the mausoleum without his help.


	12. Chilling

**Prompt 12 - chilling**

He knew he shouldn't have gone out in the storm, in the chilling wind and freezing rain. His hair was soaking wet, with drops of rainwater dripping into his eyes and down his face. But this was all part of being a father-to-be, he supposed, as Scabior left the house in the middle of a heavy downpour to go shopping for his pregnant wife.

She was craving chocolate and cheese, and since they were out of the foods she craved, Scabior volunteered to go out in the rain to get her some. It was a short trip since all he had to do was apparate to Hogsmeade. But it was a long walk through the rain and mud to reach his destination.

The wind whipped his jacket as he sloshed through puddles of mud. He kept his head down, moving along as quickly as he could as he neared the store. He'd probably get sick from being out in the cold like this. But it was worth it if it meant he could make his wife happy.

He went into the store and bought several bars of chocolate and the biggest cheese wheel he could find. Scabior made a face, frowning with disgust as he looked down at the shopping bag full of chocolate and cheese. He thought pregnant women usually craved pickles and ice cream. Or at least that's what he'd always heard. He wasn't expecting her to develop a sudden taste for chocolate bars covered in melted cheese.

Scabior returned home a short while later, shivering and wet as he came in through the front door. Rainwater went flying in all directions as he jerked his head forward and sneezed.

"Draconius?" he called out, looking up the stairs and wondering where she was. "Are you awake, pet?"

He climbed the stairs and entered their bedroom, where he found his wife sound asleep in bed. She had fallen asleep while reading, the book laying across her swollen belly as she slept peacefully.

Scabior smiled, walked over to the bed, smoothed her long curls out of her face, and placed a kiss on her forehead. He left his shopping bag on the desk, then went to the bathroom to take a hot shower and change into some dry clothes.

Draconius awoke a short while later to find her husband sitting next to her in bed. He was wearing a white, long sleeved shirt with a pair of grey plaid pajama bottoms. And there on his lap was a tray lined with chocolate bars that were smothered in melted cheese.

"'Ello beau'iful," said Scabior, smiling at her. "I brought you a snack, love. I even used a warming charm to keep it from getting cold while you slept."

She looked up at him, rubbing sleep from her eyes. When her gaze moved from his bright, grey-blue eyes to the tray in his lap, the corners of her mouth creased as a smile formed on her lips.

Scabior had braved the freezing rain and chilling winds for her. He didn't have to do this for her, but he did. And it was the little things he did that meant the most to her.


	13. Cobwebs

**Prompt 13 - cobwebs**

Scabior had never been good at housekeeping. There was dust covering the tops of the curtains and cobwebs hanging in the halls and in the corners of the rooms. The kitchen sink had dirty dishes piled up in it. Whenever Scabior was out of clean dishes, he ran water over the dishes and reused them without actually washing them. Sometimes he didn't use dishes at all, and simply ate and drank straight from the containers.

His bedroom was the messiest room in the house, with empty bottles of firewhiskey scattered across the floor. The area beside his bed was littered with used tissues, empty bottles, magazines and books.

He warned Draconius in advance that he wasn't very good at cleaning and housekeeping. He told her that he didn't mind a bit of clutter because it "makes a place look lived in."

"I can't stand 'ouses tha are spotless," he said. "It looks like no one even lives there."

Draconius rolled her eyes as Scabior opened the front door and began showing her around inside. She looked around the living room, and aside from the dust on the curtains and the cobwebs clinging to the ceiling, it wasn't that bad.

"Mind if I show you to the bedroom?" Scabior asked, raising an eyebrow as a smirk spread across his lips. "It would probably be best if you became acquainted with that area of the 'ouse now, seeing as 'ow you'll be spending most of your time there in the near future."

Draconius laughed. "You wish."

"I've already 'ad you once, pet," said Scabior, following her as she began to explore the house. There was a sly grin on his face as he said, "I'm sure it's only a matter of time before I 'ave you in my bed again."

He knew she was only joking when she laughed at his comment. He could see it in her eyes as she glanced back at him, a playful smile on her face and a mischievous glimmer in her bright green eyes. She was falling in love with him. They both knew it. But Draconius wasn't ready to admit her feelings for him until she knew for sure if this was something that would truly last.

"The only way you'll get me in bed is if you tie me to the bed with your scarf," said Draconius.

Scabior fingered the plaid material around his neck. "That can be arranged."

Draconius made her way up the stairs and into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway before entering the room. She noticed the pile of books and magazines on the floor beside the nightstand, surrounded by tissues and empty booze bottles.

What is this?" she asked, bending over and picking up one of the soggy tissues. She held it between her thumb and forefinger like it was a dirty diaper.

"I 'ave allergies," said Scabior.

Draconius raised an eyebrow, giving him a slightly skeptical look.

"I really do 'ave allergies, pet," Scabior continued. "It's usually worse in the spring when everything is in bloom during tha time of the year."

"And you're not using these magazines for masturbatory purposes?"

"Of course not. Look at their titles. You can see those aren't dirty books an magazines." Scabior kept those books hidden elsewhere.

Draconius dropped the used tissue on the floor, then took a moment to look around the room. "Your allergies might not bother you so much if you cleaned house once in a while."

She withdrew her wand from a pocket in her dress, waved it briefly in the air, and within seconds the dust and cobwebs had vanished from the room.

"Men," she muttered, shaking her head. "No wonder you need someone to clean for you. It would never get done if there wasn't a woman around to tidy up a bit."


	14. Creepy

**Prompt 14 - creepy**

A/N: thank you, Anna Fay, for giving me the inspiration I needed to finish this. I'd still be stuck if it weren't for her help with this.

One thing that Scabior and Draconius had in common was that they didn't like spiders. Neither one of them liked finding one of the tiny arachnids in the house, but for Draconius it was a problem because she had a genuine fear of spiders, as well as centipedes and millipedes. Wherever a spider went scurrying across the floor, Draconius would scream and run to her husband, telling him to hurry up and kill it before it got away. Their daughter would then watch as Scabior chased the spider through the house with a shoe, trying his best to squash the unfortunate insect.

Melody was the only person in the house who liked spiders, as well as lizards and frogs. Sometimes she would go outside and catch lizards and spiders, then bring them inside and make pets out of them. Which was fine as long as she kept her pets a secret. But then one day her pet spider escaped from his container and went running off through the house.

Loud thumps could be heard throughout the house as Scabior kept trying to hit the spider, missed, and ended up bringing his shoe down on the hardwood floor.

"Dad! What are you doing?" Melody cried, running behind her father as she tried to shove him out of the way, catch the spider and release it outside. And all the while her mother was panicking and had leapt up onto the couch to get away from the spider.

Another time Scabior and his men had caught a pair of Hogwarts truants that had, unbeknownst to him, stuffed their pockets with Creepy Crawlies from the Weasley twins' joke shop. The boys unleashed a barrage of centipedes and spiders, and Scabior was surprised when a few of his men actually screamed and ran, thinking the insects were real.

Jeremy ran and climbed the nearest tree when a foot long centipede went running towards him. Silis yanked his pants off and ran screaming into the woods because a swarm of hairy tarantulas had started crawling up his legs. Even Morvin hesitated before going after their targets to try and restrain them. Greyback and Ranca were the only ones who weren't bothered by the Creepy Crawlies, and pursued their targets into the woods regardless of the hoard of fake insects at their feet.

Scabior tried ordering his men to come back, but Jeremy was scared stiff halfway up a tree, and Silis was sprinting across the woods in his underwear. The head Snatcher looked back at the hideous Creepy Crawlies that went skittering across the forest floor. The sight of all those nasty insects made his skin crawl, even though he was pretty sure they were fake. He couldn't stand looking at them, and tried to detour around the oversized bugs as he followed Greyback and Ranca into the woods.

When he returned home later that evening, Scabior told his wife about how one of their targets had managed to escape by scaring off half his men with Creepy Crawlies. Melody was listening to their conversation, and when she heard the part about Silis ripping his pants off and running into the woods, an idea came to her, and a devilish smile spread across her face.

That night when her parents were asleep, Melody snuck into her parents bedroom with a packet of Creepy Crawlies tucked in her pocket. She lined the inside of her father's jacket with them, then quietly crept back to her bedroom.

A short while later, Draconius was awoken by the sound of her husband screaming when he put on his jacket and discovered it was full of wriggling, crawling insects. They were all over him, crawling across his chest and down his arms.

Melody rolled on the floor, laughing as she heard her father's screams from down the hall. This was revenge for Scabior not letting her keep anymore spiders as pets.


	15. Eyeballs

**Prompt 15 - eyeballs**

This had to be the most disgusting thing Scabior had ever seen. His wife had gone to Honeydukes to buy some Halloween candy. And mixed in with the usual chocolate skeletons and Spindle's Lick'O'Rish spiders (which Draconius only bought because they were Melody's favorite), there was also a batch of what appeared to be eyeballs rolling around in a clear glass vial.

"Pet," Scabior said at length, looking at the eyeballs his wife had placed in front of him on the kitchen table. "Why are there eyeballs in tha container? You 'aven't started bringing 'ome body parts an organs from your patients, 'ave you? Because Greyback is quite capable of getting 'is own food."

His teenage daughter had her arms crossed on the table, her chin resting on her left arm as she stared at the grotesque orbs in the glass vial. She seemed fascinated by them, and wasn't bothered in the least by the eyes that were gazing out at their surroundings.

"That would be cool if mum was collecting organs, dad," she said. "I've seen that in potions class, where there's all these jars with guts and stuff in them." Her expression brightened as she looked over at her mother. "Mum, you didn't save any of dad's organs, did you?"

"No, of course I didn't," Draconius replied. "And those aren't real eyeballs. They're made from chocolate and have a creamy, peanutbutter filling. The wrapper they come in is made to look like an eye, but they're just chocolate."

Melody looked a little disappointed. "What a waste," she grumbled, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face. "It would have been cool to have dad's tonsils in a jar of green liquid." She glanced over at Scabior. "You could have kept them if she'd done that."

The look of utter revulsion on Scabior's face made Melody laugh. She'd never seen him look so horrified and disgusted, not even when Greyback killed one of Umbridge's cats and tried burying it in the yard.

"Stop that, Melody," her mother scolded, reaching for the glass vial and removing one of the eyeballs. "It isn't funny." She peeled the wrapper on the chocolate eye and offered it to Scabior. "Would you like to try one?"

Once the wrapper was removed, the piece of candy no longer resembled a human eye. It was just a small ball of chocolate.

Scabior took the chocolate sphere and popped it in his mouth. He bit into the chocolate shell and tasted the smooth peanutbutter filling. It was delicious, and the odd sweets quickly became one of Scabior's favorite Halloween treats.


	16. Face Paint

**Prompt 16 - face paint**

Every parent knows that if you leave a child alone with paints, pretty soon they're going to make a mess. Melody was no exception. She liked painting and coloring just as much as the next four year old, and when given the choice between painting a picture and painting herself, she decided it would be more fun to do both.

"Look, daddy, I gots sprinkles!" Melody chirped, grinning from ear to ear as her father entered the room.

Scabior had walked away from her for a minute when his wife called him into the kitchen, but it was long enough for her to cover herself in rainbow polka dots.

At first he was surprised at what she'd done, his eyebrows reaching towards his hairline as he stood in the doorway, watching as his little girl added a touch of pink under her left eye. A smile slowly blossomed on his lips, and he chuckled. He then sat down beside her on the floor, picked her up and sat her in his lap.

"Wha 'ave you done to yourself, sweet'eart?" He tapped her on the nose, a dab of orange paint coming off on his finger as the little girl squealed in delight.

"I gots sprinkles, daddy. Like a cupcake, or a doggy."

"A doggy?"

Melody started barking, which made her father laugh. He was amused by his daughter's antics, so she kept it up, yipping and howling like a puppy.

"Tha's not face paint, love," said Scabior. "It not meant to go on your face, or on your clothes an in your 'air." He held a lock of her dark brown hair between his fingers, admiring the purple and pink streaks she'd painted on her hair. "But I do like the streaks in your 'air. An you don't need to be a cupcake," he added. "You're sweet enough already."

"Can I still be a doggy? I is good doggy. And look." Melody pointed to the painting she made. "See, daddy? It's us. You're the kitty and I'm the doggy."

Scabior squinted at the painting. It was hard to tell which one was the cat and which was the dog, seeing as how they both looked like misshapen blobs of paint. "So you're the dog?" he asked, looking back at his grinning, giggling four year old. He couldn't help but wonder if his daughter might decide to be an animagus when she got older, and if her animal form might be some sort of dog.


	17. Fall

**Prompt 17 - fall**

There was nothing Scabior liked more than going for walks in the fall and admiring the rich shades of golden brown, amber and crimson leaves. A few greenish-yellow leaves still clung to the branches, fluttering in the wind that threatened to whisk away the last remaining trace of summer.

He also liked coming home and reclining under a tree, resting in the shade while he waited for the apple bread to cool on the windowsill. But having a nice, long relaxing nap wasn't easy now that he had a daughter. The moment he laid down and closed his eyes, Melody came running and jumped into the nearest pile of leaves, scattering them in all directions and throwing them into the air.

The little girl laughed, crawling out of the pile of leaves and into her father's lap.

"Daddy, come play with me!"

Her charming smile was enough to make him forget about having his nap interrupted, and he laughed, tossing her into the air and catching her when she came back down. Scabior tossed her into the air a second time, catching her and spinning her around in a circle before letting her go and watching as she landed in a pile of leaves.

The little girl disappeared into the mound of leaves, only to emerge a minute later, laughing as the pile collapsed beneath her. They really should have been cleaning up the yard. But playing in the leaves instead of vanishing them was much more fun.


	18. Fangs

**Prompt 18 - fangs**

There were many myths and legends surrounding werewolves, some of them as old as the creature itself. Throughout history these myths had shifted and changed, with some of them becoming downright ridiculous as they evolved with time. And what did Greyback think of all this?

"Laughable," he said when Scabior mentioned the spell that was supposed to lock a werewolf's jaws shut. "It doesn't work. I had someone use it on me last week. First they cast a spell that does absolutely nothing. Then they tied seven knots in a shoelace and place the string between the teeth of a wool comber. It's said that the wool-comber represents the teeth of a werewolf. And when the charm didn't work, this moron actually tried wrapping the shoelace around my teeth and jaws."

"Wha 'appened then?" asked Scabior.

Greyback grinned. "Instant finger foods. Although the shoelace nearly yanked out one of my fangs when it got tangled up in there."

Scabior cringed.

"And you know what else?" Greyback continued. "They say werewolf dung can be used to cure vision problems. Although I fail to see how a steaming pile of dung could cure anyone of anything. But I'd gladly take a dump on Umbridge if she were in need of a cure for night blindness."

The head Snatcher laughed so hard he slid off the log be was sitting on and onto his side. "I guess tha's 'ow things differ in the wizarding world," he said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "In the muggle world, a blazing bag of dog crap is considered a bad thing. But in our world it's a valuable potion ingredient."

Greyback made a face, looking somewhat amused by his friend's laughter. "And who came up with the myth about werewolf fangs curing teething pain when rubbed against a child's gums? The only thing that'll do is contaminate them with werewolf saliva."

"Well, now wait a minute, Greyback. I can see 'ow tha would solve the problem."

"How?"

"When the child grows fangs, turns into a werewolf an kills 'is parents, then no one will be around to complain about there being a problem."

Greyback thought about this for a minute. "That's true. But I'd rather solve people's problems with dung instead of fangs." When Scabior burst out laughing he kept it up, determined to make the man laugh until he wet himself. "You see that, Scabior, us werewolves do a lot of good. We shouldn't be persecuted and put death by helping people with our miraculous nuggets of wonder and joy. I can see it now," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "Fenrir Greyback, the new Johnny Appleshit, traveling across the country curing blind people with poo."

"Stop!" Scabior curled in a ball on his side, howling with laughter.

The werewolf chuckled, unable to help himself as he too was consumed with laughter.


	19. Fog

**Prompt 19 - fog**

Sometims, during the long, cold autumn nights, the fog came creeping into the forest, covering everything in a layer of mist. It transformed the bare, skeletal trees into dark silhouettes, their twisted shapes resembling gnarled hands and daggers, standing out against an eerily white background.

There was no sound when the fog rolled in. The owls stopped hooting, the crickets stopped chirping, and every step that Scabior took seemed to echo in the silence. He had to be careful when hunting in the fog. The mist provided decent cover, but any sound he made would be easily noticed.

And then there were nights when the fog swallowed up everything in sight. It happened on nights when the moon was dark and the fog lay thick upon the ground. When Scabior walked outside his tent, he saw nothing but blackness, wreathed in a layer of grey fog about a foot in front of his face. The trees and rocks vanished, until all that remained was an endless void.

It was times like this that made him feel as though he were drifting in space, far away from the magical world he called home. It was empty, cold and alone, and part of him liked the feeling of being isolated. Scabior liked to let himself sink into the fog, letting his mind wander as he escaped into the night. If he could he would stay there, lingering on the edge, out sight and hidden from the war. But the fog would soon be on its way out, burned by the morning sun and fleeing like a vampire into the shadows.

Such was the way of the world when light overcame darkness. And such was the way of the war.


	20. Fright

**Prompt 20 - fright**

It wasn't unusual for all the creepy crawly things to find their way into the house during cold weather. Things like spiders, centipedes and pincher bugs came looking for warmth, taking shelter in Scabior's house as the leaves began to turn. Unfortunately, there were also some nasty creatures that sometimes came along, things that were bigger and more frightening than the spiders that crept across the floor.

Draconius was alerted to the presence of one of these creatures late one afternoon, thanks to her husband who came running down the stairs, screaming as he bolted through the door and into the kitchen. Something had given him quite a fright, but what on earth could scare him so badly that he would run like the devil was after him?

"Scabior?" She opened the kitchen door, and saw Scabior wedged in the corner next to the stove. He was shaking, his jacket pulled over his head like a child attempting to hide from a monster under their blanket. She quickly turned and made her way towards the stairs, drawing her wand as she braced herself for whatever was upstairs.

She reached the landing at the top of the stairs, looking this way and that for whatever had scared her husband. The floorboards creaked, and she spun around, coming face to face with a mirror image of herself. Except this version was covered in blood, her hands coated with the warm, scarlet fluid. She was also wielding a carving knife that was dripping blood onto the floor.

Draconius gasped, staring at her doppelganger for a full ten seconds before her twin shifted and morphed into a giant spider. It was a boggart. But why had it taken her form when it saw Scabior?

The healer felt her pulse accelerate, her breath hitching as the spider crept towards her. Its pincers clicked, then opened wide as it prepared to lunge at her.

 _"Riddikulus!"_ Draconius waved her wand, and the massive spider was suddenly wearing a baby bonnet while sucking on a pacifier. This was enough to make the healer burst out laughing, and the boggart vanished in a puff of smoke.

She returned to the kitchen, her hands on her hips as she stood in front of her husband. She spoke his name, and the Snatcher nearly jumped out of his skin, his back against the wall as he shook with fright.

"You want to explain why that boggart turned into me when it saw you?" asked Draconius, frowning at her terrified husband.

"I'm sorry, pet," Scabior apologized. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. "Merlin, for a minute I thought you were that boggart. But I am truly sorry. I mean... Well... You know my uh, fear of medical procedures. An with you being a 'ealer an all.." His words trialed off into silence.

Draconius sighed, her expression softening. "Honestly, Scabior. This is perfect example of people's fears projecting onto related persons and objects."

"Wha?" Scabior was genuinely confused, but the sweetness in his eyes mingling with a trace of fear made it impossible for her to stay mad at him.

She sat down on the floor beside him, watching him flinch as she took his hand in hers. "Scabior, there's no need to be afraid of such procedures. And there's certainly no need to be afraid of me." She smiled, leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheek. "Come on." Draconius pulled him to his feet as she stood up. "Let's get you a cup of tea. That'll help soothe your nerves."

"You're too good to me, pet. You know tha, right?" Scabior squeezed her hand, returning her smile as he let her lead him over to the kitchen table. "I don't know wha I did to deserve you, but wha'ever it was, I'm glad I did it."


	21. Ghost

**Prompt 21 - ghost**

When Scabior was a little boy he liked to visit his grandmother, spending the afternoon in her enchantrd garden while butterflies flitted from flower to flower in the sunlight. Evey time he visited her a small, white butterfly would follow him throughout the house. Sometimes it would land on his shoulder, or walk across the kitchen table while he was eating lunch.

His grandmother had a fondness for butterflies, and had filled her garden with a variety of magical plants and flowers designed to attract them. The most beautiful specimen in her garden was a large tree with white blossoms that shone like opals in the sunlight. The butterflies would gather around the tree, sipping nectar from the flowers while sunning their wings.

The neighbors were in awe of her enchanted garden, and would visit from time to time to admire the beauty of the colorful insects and flowers. Most of them didnt see her for what she was, for there was a fair amount of muggles that joined the weekly visitors.

Scabior would smile knowingly as he listened to the muggles comment on Catarina's garden. Sometimes they would point and whisper, "Did you see that peculiar child with the butterfly on his shoulder?" Others were bold enough to ask how she did it, to which Catarina would respond, "Nature is a wonderful thing. We can study it for a hundred years and still not know the secrets hidden in the deepest, darkest corners of the forest."

Scabior continued to visit Catarina every summer until she passed away one evening in late summer. But even after she passed away, the magic of the butterflies and the enchanted garden remained.

He returned to her house one morning only to find the front door locked, with his parents trying every spell they could think of to open the door. They wanted in to retrieve her belongings, but no matter what they tried the door would not open.

As he watched, a white butterfly landed on his shoulder, and Scabior heard Catarina's voice whispering in his ear. He wasn't sure what she was saying, but he recognized her voice, and felt compelled to move forward, approaching the door as if he were in a trance. When his finghers touched the doorknob, a white light poured out from the crack under the door. Suddenly the door flew open, and out came hundreds of white butterflies.

They rose like a cloud, swarming around him before making their way across the yard and landing in a nearby tree. When Scabior looked through the doorway, he saw the ghost of his deceased grandmother standing in the living room. She turned around, smiled at him, then morphed into a white butterfly and flew out the door where she joined the butterflies in the yard. The swarm of butterflies then left the garden, never to be seen again.

Ever since then Scabior has been visited by his grandmother's spirit. He knows she is watching over him when he sees a white butterfly following him through the forest, or when a butterfly lands on his shoulder. Sometimes he'll catch a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye, only to turn around and see a butterfly in her place. She did this because he was her favorite, her one and only grandson, and she would always be watching over him.


	22. Ghoul

**Prompt 22 - ghoul**

Scabior had never known Greyback to have any friends. He supposed that what they had might be considered a friendship. But aside from that he'd never seen Greyback in the company of anyone outside his band of Snatchers. That is until one morning when Scabior woke up, left his tent to go make breakfast, and was assaulted by a horrible stench coming from the bushes near the campsite.

He immediately plugged his nose with his scarf, then wrapped the plaid fabric around his mouth and nose, using it as a mask to help block the stink. When Scabior looked down he noticed a trail of blood leading to the bushes, and feared that Greyback had decided to eat one of the prisoners. Which would be there times this month if he remembered correctly.

The head Snatcher approached the bushes, and saw Greyback sitting in the dirt next to a ghoulish looking creature that was busy devouring the corpse of young woman. The creature had claws that were nearly a foot long, teeth like razors and eyes that glowed with an eerie white light. Its body was grey and muscular, its limbs long and powerful. It looked like it could easily crush a man's skull in the palm of its hand like a grapefruit.

Greyback looked up from the meal he was sharing with his monstrous companion. "Good morning, Scabior," he grolwed, taking a moment to lick the blood off his lips. "I'd like to introduce you to my buddy Jim."

The ghoul turned his glowing eyes towards Scabior and waved. "'Sup, dawg."

Scabior decided that he wanted no part of this and quickly ran back to his tent.


	23. Gory

**Prompt 23 - gory**

It was unusual for Greyback to get enthusiastic about anything. Aside from hunting, killing and eating people's faces off, there wasn't much he got excited over. Though most people wouldn't have believed it possible, he was pretty much laid back in terms of how he lived his life. I mean seriously, when you're a two ton werewolf that can kill and eat whatever you want, you know you're at the top of the food chain and that people aren't going to mess with you. Which means doing what you want and never having to worry about things.

However there was one thing, one special occasion that he loved with a passion. And that was Halloween. It was the perfect opportunity to scare the hell out of some unfortunate children, steal their candy, eat it, then eat them for dessert.

One morning Scabior woke up and saw that Greyback had decorated the campsite for Halloween. He was half asleep when he brushed the tent flap aside, yawning and rubbing sleep from his eyes as he stepped out into the pale sunlight. Scabior then stopped dead in his tracks as he encountered what could only be described as a wall of stink. The stench was overwhelming, and for a minute he thought Greyback's ghoulish friend had returned for breakfast.

"Scabior," said Greyback, smiling as he clapped him on the back. "Well? Whaddya think? Do you like the decorations I put up while you were asleep?"

Scabior gagged and almost threw up. He quickly covered his mouth and nose with his scarf, his eyes moving towards the ground as he noticed the bits of stone and severed limbs strewn from one end up the campsite to the other. The stones appeared to have been uprooted from a graveyard, their chipped corners and worn letters visible even at a distance.

There were broken bodies protruding from the soil, with hands gripping the earth, frozen in time as though they were trying to claw their way out of the dirt. A severed head was lying in the dirt next to a tree, its mouth open in a silent scream. One of its eyes had been torn from its socket, and was being used as a yo-yo by the sadistic werewolf.

"Yeah, I figured I'd try some edible arrangements this year," said Greyback. He flicked his wrist, and the bundle of nerves he'd tied around his index finger stretched, causing the eyeball on the end to go soaring through the air then snap back into the palm of his hand. "'Fraid I might have sampled a bit from dear ole Fred, but there should still be plenty left for when the guests arrive."


	24. Grave

**Prompt 24 - grave**

Of all the places to be on Halloween night, Greyback never expected to find himself in Scabior's pet cemetery.

The werewolf stopped and looked around, his arms folded over his chest as he read the writing scrawled across one of the headstones. "This is ridiculous," he growled. "You mean to tell me that you buried your pets when you were a child? And if that weren't enough, you had to fill the backyard with all this crap." He waved a hand at the graves lined up in the shade of the old apple tree.

"Of course I did!" Scabior huffed, sounding rather indignant. "You don't expect me to just chuck 'em in the bushes an pretend they don't exist, now do you? It's undignified!"

Greyback shrugged. "When I was a kid, we poured barbecue sauce on them and ate them for a snack. Nice treats, actually. You take a couple of hamsters and skewer them on stick - "

"Enough already!" Scabior groaned, holding his stomach as a sudden wave of nausea passed over him. "You are disgusting, Greyback."

The werewolf grinned. "I try."

Scabior decided to ignore his friend's comment and continued on his way through the cemetery. Each grave he passed brought back memories of his childhood friends; from Mr. Tibbles the hamster to Fuzzy the rabbit, all of these animals held a special place in his heart.

"You know wha, Greyback?" said Scabior, turning and glancing over his shoulder at the werewolf. "One of these days karma is gonna come back an bite you in the arse for eating people's pets. I know I'm one to talk, being a Snatcher an all tha. I'm not exactly innocent an I know I've 'urt people an their families. But I draw the line at animals." He looked at Mr. Tibbles' grave and sighed. "You don't 'urt innocent creatures."

"Karma?" Greyback scoffed at the notion. "There's no such thing, Scabior! And the only payback I've ever had for eating people's pets is a bad case of gas. So unless you count digestive issues, it ain't happenin'."

The words had barely left when mouth when a low, snarling sound filled the air, the noise carrying across the cemetery as both Scabior and Greyback turned and looked at the ground.

A mound of earth formed at Greyback's feet, with loose soil and pebbles spilling onto the his boots. The noise was getting louder, the movements beneath the earth growing frantic, when suddenly a tiny paw emerged from the soil.

Greyback made the mistake of leaning in for closer look. He later regretted his decision when a zombified hamster launched itself out of the ground like a cannonball. The undead animal then latched onto his face and began biting and clawing at his cheeks.

"Get it off me! Get it off me!" Greyback howled, stumbling backwards and almost tripping over an exposed tree root.

"Well, I did say it was a pet cemetery," said Scabior, his hands in his pockets as he watched Greyback struggle to pull the hamster off his face. "You think Mr. Tibbles is bad, you ought to meet Zowie and Church."


	25. Happy Halloween

**Prompt 25 - Happy Halloween**

If someone asked her what she liked about him, Draconius would would say that she liked his cheeky charm, good looks and playfulness. But what most people didn't know was that Scabior could also be creative. It was his creativity that earned him a date with Draconius back when they were students at Hogwarts.

She had gone to visit him one night in October, and found him sitting by the fireplace carving pumpkins. It surprised her to see that he wasn't using magic, but rather he'd chosen to carve them by hand, which created quite a mess on the floor of the Slytherin common room.

"Scabior," she said length, taking a seat beside him on the couch. "Why are you doing this the muggle way?" Her eyes traveled across the newspaper he'd spread across the floor, each one covered in mounds of seeds and sticky pumpkin. "Surely there must be a better way."

Scabior was barely listening, his focus on the pumpkin in his lap that he was close to finishing. The tip of his tongue peeked from between his lips, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he said, "Wha? You don't think it's more fun to get messy?" He waved a hand in her general direction, and she shrieked as a wad of pumpkin guts went flying.

Draconius scooted over, moving to the other side of the couch to avoid being splattered with bits of pumpkin. "Messy is for muggles," she said with an air of importance. "Not witches and wizards."

"Yes, but can a muggle do this, pet?" Scabior placed the finished jack-o-lantern on the floor and waved his wand over its grinning face. The jack-o-lantern glowed with a warm, inner light that gradually changed from orange to red, then on to pink, purple, green, blue and back to orange again.

Her eyes widened, and Scabior smiled when he saw her lips form a neat little circle of surprise.

"Ah, but wait," said Scabior, grinning and waving a finger at her. "Tha's not all it can do." He waved his wand a second time, and the jackal a lantern's face transformed into the words "Happy Halloween", which stayed like that for half a minute before changing into "Would you go to the harvest festival with me?"

The Ravenclaw girl gasped and put her hands over he mouth, her heart leaping into her throat at this wondrous feat of magic."

"The festival is is 'Ogsmeade next week," said Scabior. "I don't 'ave anyone who wants to go with me, an I couldn't think of a better way to ask than this." He motioned towards the glowing jack-o-lantern. "So, whaddya say, pet? Want t' go out with me?"

Draconius smiled and nodded. "Yes, Scabior! Of course I'll go with you," she said, ignoring the fact that he was covered in pumpkin as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.


End file.
